I hate these words because my father says them to me all the time. When I got cut from the high school varsity basketball team, my father looked at the floor and said, “Guess you’re just not good enough,” and walked away. At six foot five inches tall, my father towers over me by six inches. I knew every time he saw me, he was ashamed that I wasn’t at least his height.

“Stand up straight, damnit! Eat your vegetables!”

Every single admonition related to the fact that I was a failure. My friends came over after dinner one evening and I told them of my situation. Like all good friends do, they picked me up, literally one by my hands and the other by my feet and started to pull.

“We’re going to stretch you until you’re taller! Don’t worry!”

They spent 15 minutes contorting my body into a taught rope. All I could feel were my shoulder sockets burn from the pull. “Grab my head and pull instead!“, I told one friend who had my hands. POP, POP, POP went the vertebrae in my neck like a chiropractic adjustment.

Afterward, my friends eagerly placed a book above my head and drew a line to see whether I had grown. No such luck. I’ll always just be five feet eleven inches tall.

Friendship Is Blind

My father wasn’t only disappointed with my height, he was also disappointed with my friends. They were “low-lifes” from poor families who didn’t deserve to hang around with someone like me. Every time they rang my doorbell, he’d scowl at them.

I never knew we were well off. We lived in a 3,500 square foot, five bedroom, three and a half bathroom house. All my neighbors had equally large houses. I thought having palm trees on each side of the front gate and a swimming pool in the backyard was normal.

It was only until I was invited to a friend’s house for dinner did I realize how good I had it. Jeremy lived with his sister, mother, and father in a studio apartment no more than 500 square feet large. The beds were curiously lifted around the room on platforms so that we could all squeeze in to eat dinner below.

Jeremy’s parents were wonderful. They told me how much Jeremy enjoyed hanging around with me after school. They thanked me for being a good friend and sent me home with left overs of the best spaghetti bolognese I had ever tasted.

From that day on, I grew a new admiration for Jeremy and a deeper understanding of my fortuity.

Living With Disappointment

When I got home my father didn’t ask me how dinner went. Instead, he asked whether I was going to ace my SAT test the coming weekend.

I told my father, “I got it. Not to worry,” and he responded with a terse, “Yeah right.”

Not wanting to start a fight, I offered my father some left over pasta. He waved his hand at me, like a busy master would wave away a servant and responded, “I already ate.”

For the next week, I studied religiously for my SATs. 2,000+ or bust, I kept telling myself but I knew it was a long shot. My reading and writing were good, but my mathematics was horrible. There was no way I could average a 666 for each section. I could not, especially if I didn’t want to go to hell.

When the SAT results came in the mail, I was too afraid to open the letter. My father impatiently snatched the envelope from my hand and gutted the envelope with a knife.

He turned to me and made a sound. “Hrmph.” “Not good enough son,” as he laid the envelope on the kitchen table and walked out the door.

I expected to see something abysmal, like a 1,800 or less. Instead, I scored a 2,050! I was ecstatic, but couldn’t let out a sound because according to my father, I was once again a failure. After all, he scored what was equivalent to a 2,300 and went to Princeton University.

Waking Up To My Own

I’m never going to be a varsity basketball player and I’ll probably never get into the likes of Princeton, Yale, or Harvard, but so what? I’ll never stop trying my best. If my best is “not good enough” then so be it.

“You’re not good enough!”

In whose eyes? In my eyes, I’m just as good as anybody else Dear Father. Congratulations for being 6’5″ tall and making lots of money distributing over-priced clothing to fickle consumers. I’m not you.

I am good enough because I say so. If you wanted someone better, then you should have produced someone better. For now, all I ask is for you to accept me for who I am and believe in the man I may become.

Please click here for voting guidelines. This is last of the finalists. Voting will be open until Sunday, July 8 at 5pm PST.

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Touching story and an experience I can relate with. Both of my parents have always been tough of me. But instead of “you’re not good enough” what I had to endure over and over again was “why can’t you be more like your brother.” I don’t know why parents don’t realize how much comments like that hurt. Hopefully some day soon your dad will recognize how overly critical he is and start showing how much he cares through positive feedback. vote = 3 points!

Believe in yourself and understand only you define yourself. It’s tough to have critical parents, but you’re on the positive path of self acceptance and success. Great job on the SAT’s. Surround yourself with people who build you up, like your wonderful friend and his family. vote=3

i agree with Barb. Believe in yourself. You may not have met your father’s standard but who cares? Take his words as a challenge. We all have limitations, but as long as you did your best and you exceeded your previous performance, it means that you are improving and you are working on to further develop your skills and talent. good luck on your future endeavor!

I grew up without a father, so I missed out on this sort of fatherly “attention” though I had a step dad who didn’t give a shit and was a complete failure at his job of being father. I’ll be optimistic and say that your dad means well, but doesn’t have the best way of expressing it; I hope that one day your father can see and accept you for who you are. 3 points from me. :)

Hang in there! My father was similar in that he always pushed me and wondered where the other 5% of the 95% test score went. It was very frustrating in the beginning, but once I went away to college, I used his standard of expectations to drive me to do well in college and beyond.

Now I make fun of him for missing a two put and not calling a bluff on the river!

It’s your father that isn’t “good enough”. Maybe he’s just trying to drive you to be better, but he’s going about it all wrong. You’re obviously a smart kid, so get yourself into a good, affordable school that teaches what you want to learn. If that means a tech school so you can learn mechanics, then do that. Be happy in your life, and the rest will come along.
Vote: 2

Sad, indeed…my father is no longer with me (though I know he is watching over me), but he always told me when he was alive…to do what was going to make me happy…he was a high school dropout who opened up his own business…Smart and wealthy rarely impress me…you keep going and make your OWN impression on the world! I give a 3.

I was seeing several reflections of myself as I was going through your story. well done, very touching. I will refrain from voting as I have not voted the others, but your story is excellent, but more so the lessons you have taken away from your life experience. all the best

vote: 3. Great job. Sorry to hear about the conflict with your dad. I’m sure he only wants the best for you, but he just doesn’t know how to communicate that. You’ll become your own man and he’ll respect that someday. Good luck!

[…] Strict Parents Helping Or Hurting Their Children’s Future? Tweet In “Please Believe In The Man I May Become,” Yakezie Writing Contest finalist writes about his frustration with his critical father who […]

Powerful story. It’s hard for parents to understand how much their words hurt their kids. However, your father’s words also sound like they are really motivating you which will serve well in the future!

It breaks my heart when I hear stories like these about parents who are too hard on their kids. Keep your head up and be proud of everyhing you’ve done. If your father can’t appreciate all of your accomplishments it’s his loss. Hopefully one day he will realize the flaws in his ways and tell you how much he loves you and that he’s proud of you for not giving up on him as a parent.

Vote 3. To admonish you because you’re not tall enough is admonishing himself, because he’s likely the one that didn’t pass on the genes. Not your fault. Heartbreaking story but as a dad to a 3 year old and 1 year old, this serves as a reminder to always make sure to be on their side.

Well, voting is over, but what the hell. Great post. I vote 3. That being said, “good enough” is relative. Maybe your father knows that you are capable of best. Would you not use those words for your child in that instance? You’ve painted a very dark picture of someone who apparently has taught you well and been a great role model.

[…] at work, when writing a book, or starting a business.Second place goes to Brian, author of “Please Believe In The Man I May Become.” Brian pens a visceral post that discusses his frustration with a critical father. He […]

Brian, this post has made me speechless. Not sure what to say. I feel bad you have had to hear these things and, on the other hand, admire your desire to be yourself and put all that negativity in check. Many, in circumstances as yours, turn the negative into more negative. I am glad you are facing a negative with a powerful positive. I will be praying for you and your dad that his eyes will open up to see he has a super-star son!

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